


And it All Comes Crashing Down

by KipRussel



Series: Dial a Hitman [2]
Category: Hitman (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Healing, Hopeful angst, aka: lucas kinda has a breakdown but in a good way, angst angst angst angst! i chant, but this is about the emotions not the logistics kjfdhg, idk if how they both got there and left makes sense, let lucas cry he needs a good cry, olivia is also here but like for one line, set directly after the homecoming cutscene, shock and 30 years of grief and anger makes for an interesting cocktail of emotions, this is like a stream of consciousness kind of thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KipRussel/pseuds/KipRussel
Summary: “This was our prison. Where father trained us, shaped us into killers for Providence. Now you don’t remember, they ripped it out of you, wiped it away, but I do. I remember everything.”





	And it All Comes Crashing Down

**Author's Note:**

> Set almost directly after the homecoming cutscene.

“You’re staying?” The genuine question hung in the gentle calm of the air, cushioned by the overgrowth crawling out of the forest and the dark cloud cover above. 47 stood on the gravel road and waited for an answer. Lucas was standing at the threshold of the institute. With one hand on the gate, he felt acutely aware of his brother standing ahead of him, and the building looming behind him. He’d come to a stop there while 47 had continued on.

“...no. Just... thinking. Remembering.” Lucas walked forward and pulled the gate with him. The old iron creaked and groaned until the final  _clang_ of closing again. He joined 47 on the road, sticking his hands in his pockets, eyeing the sky, trying to gauge the oncoming storm.   
“Have you got a way back?” he asked. 47 gave a curt nod.

“I drove. The car’s hidden down the road, east.”

Lucas hummed. “We’ve got our separate ways then.” Neither moved to leave. They shared a knowing look in comfortable silence, before 47 decided they had lingered too long.

“See you soon.”

* * *

 

Lucas picked his way through the overgrown dirt road to the place he had stashed his own car. He’d parked it on an access road he remembered using as kids on their missions-- how could he forget it?-- knowing it wasn’t well travelled. He shook his head at how  _surreal_ it all was, meeting again like that after all those years and then turning off to their own paths to drive away, like it was simply life as usual. Then again, lack of normalcy was… normal.

Even being back in the institute, walking the halls together as they headed for the exit. Bringing 47 up to date on the plan, where to meet, what he knew of Providence, as they picked their way through the rubble and invading plant life. The strange familiarity and dissonance of it almost made him laugh.

The car sputtered to life as he turned the key, pausing to text Olivia before pulling away.

> _Went well. He’s with us._

Lucas tossed the burner phone into the passenger seat and started down the road. He cast a glance in the rear mirror, watching his newly purchased property disappear into the trees. Their old prison. Where he and 47 were abused, manipulated and trained to kill. The place they swore they would never go back to. The place they swore they would destroy.

And then he escaped, while 47 stayed behind. And they ripped everything they could from them both, for Providence’s selfish desires. The place almost burned his feet, standing on that ground again, like the night of their revolt, the night he lost 47, the night his lungs filled with smoke and ash, and bullets ripped through his brothers’ skin and the gunshots screamed in his ears and then they all died, all of them, except 47, who almost did because they took his emotions and memories from him and he remembered nothing, they fed him lies and ripped everything they could from him, they left him to the world with nothing but their twisted schemes, but then he found him again, and they went back home together, to where they made their pact in blood to tear all of them down, and his name, his old name, not even a name, a  _number,_ that his brother remembered,  _Six_ , he  _remembered_  him, he said his name as he lifted the gun-- oh, God, he had a gun, he had a gun right to his head, his finger was on the trigger and he could hear the creak of the springs and the cold metal was pressed to his forehead and he looked right into his eyes  _pleading_  with him to remember and if 47 hadn’t he could’ve--

“ _Shit._ ”

Lucas felt his chest tighten and throat constrict. He gasped, swerving to the side of the road, throwing the emergency break. The car came screeching to a halt in the brush, Lucas’ knuckles white on the steering wheel. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. He blinked slowly, loosening his grip. His hands-- no, he realized, his whole body was trembling. He couldn’t breathe. A sob wracked through his body before he could stop it. And then another, as he bowed his head, and another, the pressure of it all compressing him, crowding him, blocking out the world as he tried to silence the onslaught of thoughts, fighting to steady his breath, gasping.

47 almost killed him. They almost lost.

But he remembered. On his own, he remembered. 47 overcame Ort-Meyer’s programming.

Lucas rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, then held his fist against his mouth, keep himself together, trying to hold back another sob, trying to hold everything back. Everything, he realized, had built up and released. Almost 30 years of pent up anger and ache and grief and longing. Of Providence still lording over them both. Never knowing how his brother faired, if he had died or lived; then learning of the twisted fate he met, wondering if it was reversible, if he could ever see him again or if he’d join all the others like them in the dirt, if the people who did this would ever see justice, if Providence would ever come crashing down.

And now 47 was back. He was back. Lucas smiled through another sob, face twisting. The plan worked. 47 was back, he was okay, he remembered him and wanted to fight again. Wanted to fight alongside him. His closest friend, his brother, his family. They were back together, after all this time. Things were okay.

He took another shaky breath, leaning back in the front seat. Tears still trailed down his face, the weight of it all finally settling on him, finally tangible. His eyes darted around the roof, mentally sorting through the next steps. They still had to hope the Ether antidote worked. And if it did work, there was no guarantee 47 would remember the old Constant. He hadn’t gone much further beyond that, in his planning. He didn’t even know if the old Constant was still alive.

Lucas ran his hand over his face, breathing deep, waiting for the hitches in each breath he took to smooth out. It would be alright. It  _was_  alright. 47 was there. 47 could still remember other important things. 47 would still help in the fight. Olivia could always keep digging, and 47 and his handler-- Diana, he said?-- they both had resources and an in on Providence, more information. There could be other ways, if it didn’t work. They would make it work.

He sat, staring at the roof of the car. The silence hung heavy in the thick air. The forest swayed. Lucas breathed. Time stretched.

His phone buzzed, the sound reverberating through the car. He blinked, coming back to reality, glancing at the passenger seat. No phone. It buzzed again-- it was on the floor, between the door and the mat, after bouncing and sliding there during his emergency stop. Lucas wiped the tears off his face, stretching across the car for it. A new message from a blocked number.

> _see you soon -O_

Lucas let out a breath.

It was alright. It would be alright.

He pushed the emergency break and threw the car in reverse, backing onto the road again. The odd raindrop found its way through the tree canopy and onto the windshield. Lucas leaned forward and peered out the window, wiping his face on his sleeve. He watched as the rain built its way to a steady downpour. Switching on the wipers and headlights and starting down the road again, he answered the text with his other hand.

> _See you soon._

He pressed send, and left the institute behind him.


End file.
